10 Timeless Heroes; A Time Travel Romance Boxed Set
Page 29
“I don’t care. I just need to go!” Tears flooded her eyes. She could barely breathe from the tension.
“Why is it so important that you go?”
“I need to see that blonde mummy and I need to look at the baby too. It’s really important to me, Dad. I’ll never ask you for another thing if you’ll just try. I promise!”
He paused, considering her plea, not wanting to disappoint her. “I’m not promising anything, but I’ll see what I can do. You have a passport, right?”
Fiona jumped up, hugging him tightly. “Yeah, yeah, I got one three years ago just in case I ever got to go anywhere.” Excited, she danced around. “Thank you, thank you!”
“Now don’t get your hopes up too far. I said I would try. That doesn’t mean it’ll happen.”
“I know, I know. But I know you’ll make it happen, I just know it!” She ran out of the room, more animated than either of them had seen her for quite some time.
“Where are you going,” Maeve called after her.
“I’m going shopping and then I’m going to pack. I want to be ready,” her voice faded as she ran out.
Maeve turned to her husband. “You’d better make this happen. I think her heart would be broken if you don’t.”
He stared out the door, lost in thought. “One of my team wasn’t really too excited about going. Maybe I can see if she would be willing to surrender her position on the team and stay here. I have some research that needs to be done anyway and she might be more interested in that. I can at least ask, and if that doesn’t work, I know a few people who owe me some big favors. Maybe I can pull a few strings.”
Knowing he would move heaven and hell to help his daughter, Maeve pulled his face down for a long kiss. “Did I tell you today how much I love you?”
“Yeah,” he said, pulling her close, “but you can tell me again. Better yet, how about showing me?”
Fifty-Two
Dad’s teammate was more than agreeable to relinquishing her spot to Fiona, but due to China’s strict policies on foreign travel, Fiona was not able to go as part of the University group, which had already been granted special travel dispensations. A number of the areas the staff would visit were “closed” traffic areas and special permits were needed, and there was not enough time to go through the process for Fiona. Rather, she would go along as a tourist attached to the group, but not actually allowed on-site at some of their destinations. As fortune would have it, one of the University’s Chinese contacts was willing to fax a letter of invitation for Fiona, and a Chinese travel Visa was issued in short order, again through her father’s numerous contacts.
Fiona threw herself into travel preparations, getting vaccinations, being tested for HIV, of all things, owing to the fact that China did not grant Visas to people infected with the virus, and purchasing airline tickets. There were a few rough moments when it appeared she wouldn’t be able to be on all the same flights as her father, but once again, fate intervened and she managed to get her schedule arranged so that she would travel with him. They would fly out of Detroit to Los Angeles, from there to Beijing, China.
The morning of their departure finally arrived. Fiona had been up and dressed for hours, nervously pacing the floor, worried that something would happen at the last moment to delay their departure, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the transport van the University had reserved for the short trip to Detroit. Everything was on the front porch, ready for loading the minute the van arrived.
“Now are you sure you have everything?” Maeve quizzed them for the hundredth time.
“What we don’t have, we’ll do without,” Dad reassured her. “Just don’t worry about us, we’re adults,” he said, winking at Fiona.
“I know that,” Maeve snorted. “But you would forget your own head if it wasn’t attached.”
“Well, Fiona’s along to make sure it doesn’t get left somewhere,” Dad laughed. “Quit worrying, we’ll be fine.”
“You should come with us, Mom, it’ll be interesting.”
“I don’t want to go to China, and don’t blame me if something happens and the Communists arrest you and you’re stuck there for years in some terrible prison.” Worry creased Maeve’s face.
“Nothing’s going to happen to us.” Dad pulled her into his arms, nuzzling her neck. “A representative of the Chinese Government will be with us all the way and we will be under their protection.”
“Quit worrying, Mom, we’re pretty much going to be ushered around all the time. I doubt we’ll have much time to ourselves over there, anyway. It’s going to be fine.”
A horn sounded out front. “The van’s here.”
Dad began gathering up his briefcase and carry-on luggage. Fiona’s carry-on consisted of more of Dad’s research materials. She wanted to spend as much time as she could reviewing everything before their arrival in Beijing. Everything she had read thus far only enhanced her desire to visit China. She was almost positive that China was the starting point in her search for clues as to her regressed memories. Thousands of years may have passed since the life she or her ancestor had lived, but maybe some small remnant of that life still existed today. She needed to go on this trip, needed to have some closure.
Maeve gave each of them a big hug. “You guys be careful and don’t do anything stupid. I don’t want to have to come over there and save you,” she sniffed, tears welling in her eyes.
“Now, Maeve, don’t start. We’ll only be gone three weeks. Think of all the fun things you can do without having to answer to me.”
Dad hated the time away from Maeve, but she was not interested in his fieldwork and he didn’t pressure her otherwise. For the most part, fieldwork involved a lot of dirt, heat, poor conditions and long hours. Not much time in there for anything Maeve would find even vaguely interesting. He was pleased, though, that Fiona was opting to accompany him.
Giving Maeve one more big hug, they gathered the rest of their things and headed out. Several of the associate professors were already sitting in the van and, after a few more stops to load the rest of the group, they were on their way. They ran into the usual delays and frustrations at the airport, and were eventually loaded on the airplane and flying to Los Angeles. Dad immediately settled down to nap while Fiona pulled out the research materials and began to read. By the time the plane touched down in Los Angeles, she was more than halfway through the first stack.
After a two hour layover in Los Angeles, they boarded the flight to Beijing. It would be a grueling flight, and they would not arrive until late the following day.
Fiona took the time to read and re-read the materials, finally stopping simply because she was too tired to make sense of the documents. Closing her eyes, she attempted to rest, but her mind kept shifting from the past to the present. Bittersweet memories blocked out as too painful alternately surfaced and receded. Kellach and Con. Her heart ached for them. Kellach’s face swam behind her eyelids, smiling, sometimes brooding, expressions she had witnessed a hundred times. His love could never be replaced by another. In her mind’s eye, she could smell Con’s baby scent and feel the silk of his baby hair.
Jerking awake, tears streamed down her face as the dream subsided, bereft and alone, her thoughts returned to the present. Gratefully, Dad still snored softly. No explanation for the tears would be necessary. The lights in the cabin had been dimmed, few passengers were awake, and those that were watched movies or read quietly. The hum of the jet’s engines was the only noticeable sound.
I’m coming home, Kellach, she thought, help me find you.
Fifty-Three
Beijing, People’s Republic of China, home of the infamous Forbidden City. To an American girl who had never traveled outside the Continental United States, Fiona’s hometown senses were physically assaulted by the sights and clamor of present day China. Their group was met immediately upon arrival by a representative from the Chinese Government who escorted them through Customs and into a waiting transport van, all the while chattering
on, fortunately in English, about what was expected and allowed during their visit.
They were driven a short distance to the Sino-Swiss Beijing Airport Hotel, which proved to be a modern and convenient stop before a short flight to Lanzhou in the morning.
“Do you want to go out to dinner?” Dad wiped a hand across his brow. He looked tired, ready to drop.
“I don’t think so, Dad. I think I’ll just order a little room service and call it a night. Tomorrow comes pretty early.”
His lips spread in a slight smile. “I think I’ll do the same. If you need anything, I’m right next door.”
All too early, they were again escorted to the Beijing Airport for the flight to Lanzhou, a vital stop for caravans in the ancient past. Reservations were already in place at the Lanzhou Legend Hotel, and they would stay in Lanzhou for two days, allowing the group to tour some of the many historical sites. Fiona balked at the delay, fully convinced that her real destination lay further west, but there wasn’t much she could do about it, the itinerary had been set long before she joined the group and her desires held little weight in the scheme of things. Her patience grew shorter with each passing day.
“Why don’t you accompany me on the tour today? Lots of interesting old dead stuff.” Dad winked.
“Sounds exciting, but I think I’ll stay here and review the research materials. Maybe I’ll see something we missed.”
“You can’t just sit in the hotel day after day.”
“I’ll be fine. Pretty hot stuff in these manuscripts!”
On the morning of the third day, they boarded a plane for the flight to Dunhuang. Several sites were located in and around Dunhuang and before dawn, four sturdy SUV’s pulled up in front of the hotel. They were loaded and were soon driving into the desert. The early morning was chilly, but it would not be long before the heat of day was upon them. At the first excavation site, Fiona stayed behind, watching as the group moved forward, excited at the chance to view firsthand the ruins. By late morning, they returned to Dunhuang to make preparations for the trip to Loulan the next day. Fiona was excited at the prospect. Maybe Loulan would be the place she sought.
From Dunhuang, they drove through desolate and rugged terrain to the ancient site of Loulan, situated on what was once the western bank of the Lop Nur Lake. The Tarim River, which once supported the area, had changed course over time and the desert eventually encroached, covering everything.
It looks so different! More arid, the hills lifeless and barren. Once, poplar trees covered portions of the landscape, but no more. Nothing here jogged any memories. Day after day she followed the research team, hoping against hope that something might remain for her to find, but gradually she accepted the fact that there was nothing here.
On one such excursion, she hiked to the top of a small hillock and rested for awhile. Echoes of long ago rang through her mind. She could almost hear the long-necked war horns—hear the clash of the swords and the din of the marketplace. She could almost hear Tanith’s voice and Xio Li’s chatter. Almost! If this was the place, time had erased all but a few remaining structures, structures that were later in time than what she sought. Heavy of heart, she walked back.
Fifty-Four
Urumqi, capital of the Xinjiang Province. As the flight neared Urumqi, their guide pointed out various geological features. Urumqi was completely surrounded by desert and sat on the northern slope of the Tianshan Mountains. After landing and retrieving their luggage, they were again loaded into a transport van for the short ride from the airport to their accommodations at the Holiday Inn Hotel. Her lips curved. Tourism had definitely hit China.
“I’m giving everyone the afternoon off. Let’s do some sightseeing for a change.” Dad scrubbed his hands together.
“I think we should work!” Time could be better spent! “We should be working, doing what we came to do!”
“I say we have a holiday,” another member piped in. “We need to relax!”
Frustrated, she felt like abandoning the whole bunch. “Maybe I’ll just head out on my own,” she muttered crossly.
“Can’t do that,” Dad reminded her. “You don’t want to risk a confrontation with the Chinese. They don’t take kindly to visitors who don’t conform to their rules and regulations. Better we all stick together.”
To Fiona, the added delay seemed interminable and her anxiety steadily grew.
Urumqi was a melting pot of cultures and the bazaar was a mishmash of ethnicity. Homemade shish kebabs, thin-wrapper dumplings and baked dumplings, along with handmade noodles and pilaf were only a few of the culinary delights offered along the causeway. Many of the stalls offered a variety of melons native to China for sale. Bartering was fast and furious and droves of people crowded the walkways.
A hand carved statute of a small wooden horse caught her eye. She picked it up, her fingers tracing the smooth wood.
“You should buy it!” Dad leaned over her shoulder examining the piece. “You need a few souvenirs to take home.”
“It reminds me of Uasail,” she murmured, touched by the memory.
“Uasail!”
“He was a stallion Kellach gave to his ward Cyrnan. Uasail was a magnificent animal. Very swift.” But not swift enough!
Reluctantly, she set the carving back down. It was too costly.
“Barter for it!” Dad handed her a wad of cash. “You need the stimulation!”
She threw herself into the bartering, haggling with the best of them and laughing when the merchant finally accepted her offer. Dad was right. She needed the break. Tomorrow, she would focus on the real reason she was here—trying to find a connection to the past or at least accepting the loss.
The final days were as fruitless as the preceding ones. Day by day, little by little, she came to accept the facts. She would not find answers here, perhaps she never would. Whatever happened to her was over and she could either, accept the inevitable and move on, or she could wallow in sorrow for the rest of her life. After weeks of searching unsuccessfully for some small clue, she was giving up. Nothing had surfaced to shed any light on how or why she had been a participant in a previous life.
Fifty-Five
Standing in front of the mirror, Fiona stared at her reflection. Devoid of any makeup, her face was pale and drawn, small stress lines visible around her eyes. Her hair hung limp and lifelessly down, her eyes shadowed, sadness and disappointment reflecting in every fiber of her being. I look like an old woman! Pulling her hair back, she rolled it into a bun and stuffed it under a wide-brimmed hat, uncaring how she looked. She gathered up her purse and walked out of the hotel, where she hailed a cab and directed the driver to the museum.
This was the last thing she had to do before they departed in the morning. Until today, she had held off visiting the museum and the blonde mummy, afraid of what she would see and feel, and then there was the added burden that a baby had been discovered in the same tomb. She was almost certain that the mummy of the baby could not have been her child. Con was only a few months old when the events leading to her death occurred, but viewing the body was the only way to be totally sure.
Visiting the grave site and the excavation of the areas surrounding the ancient settlement had unnerved her, but nothing like this. Her palms were sweating and her throat dry. Dad had offered to accompany her, but she refused, needing to do this alone. It was time to say goodbye! Kellach and Con were gone into the mists of time, dead long before she had ever been born. Her stomach clenched, nausea threatening. It hurt to realize that her memories were beginning to fade. There was too much contrast between her life now and the one she had lived with Kellach. Nothing here connected her to that life.
The cab pulled to a stop before the museum, the driver waiting expectantly. Fiona handed him some bills and climbed out, willing herself to enter the museum. Like a scene from some suspense movie, she climbed the steps, one stair at a time, forcing herself forward. Entering the relative quiet of the museum, she waited for a few minutes, allowin
g herself to adjust to the dim light and giving herself a few extra moments to mentally prepare. Not that she hadn’t been prepared from the first day she came on this trip, but nothing so far would be as emotionally trying as this would be, and viewing what she felt was her own body was going to be draining to say the least.
She had a few hours until closing time, so she strolled slowly along, taking her time and perusing each exhibit carefully. Many of the items were objects she remembered using in everyday life back then—spindles, looms, small leather pouches, cutting tools, and a variety of textiles. Some of the cloth was so well preserved that the colors were as vivid as when the bodies were first laid to rest.
A museum guide, a Uyghur by her brown hair and rounder hazel eyes, approached and, in accented English, asked if she needed assistance. Fiona shook her head “no” and the tour guide moved on. Fiona watched her walk away, wondering if she might be the progeny of one of those ancient Caucasians who once walked these grounds. Until DNA testing was implemented and completed, no one would know for sure.
The archway leading to the room where the mummies were housed stood starkly in front of her. Denial almost allowed her to flee, but knowing she would never rest until she did this, she squared her shoulders and marched in. The mummies were arranged in somewhat the same fashion as they had been in their original burial chambers. She moved through them, reading the labels and noting their condition. In a small corner, she found what she was looking for.
She sat down on a bench conveniently situated near the glass enclosure. Though the mummy saddened her, she couldn’t empathize with it. It was just a body, sad, but nothing more. Relieved, she now knew that the baby was not Con either, the baby was much larger than Con had been, and the hair darker and straight, Con’s had been almost white and curly. She had no idea who it was, but it might have been the poor baby of the prostitute. She would never know. Tears flowed, mostly from relief but sad ones all the same. She allowed herself to cry. Bending over and covering her face with her hands, she released her pent-up emotions, finally letting go.